Finally the Mid Western Eat Off contest of "08" was just starting. Norman Phillips walloped through the crowd, like a whirl wind destroying a string of old country barns.His little greedy eyes peered for the final table on the right. It was the hot dog marathon sign up table. His chubby cheeks glistened with a stream of salty sweat from the August sun. This was his year, his turn to use his one and only true skill to devastate the competition. He would eat more of that fine slender processed meat, then any other challenger could even fathom. It was time for Norman Phillips star to shine.
Just as his meaty right leg began to turn to the direction of the table, he heard a scream. Not a child's lost scream, and/or a scream of passion that Norman only heard on the old VHS tapes his cousin Louie Phillips let him have. No, this was the scream of pure pain. Like a nail gun dislodging a 2 inch sharpened piece of metal in your human body's natural exit cavity. Not the sound that escapes you for years to come.
Unfortunately for Norman and around 60% of the populace with the misfortune of being at the Mid Western Eat Off Contest Of "08" A strange infectious disease arose through the crowd like a tidal wave would destroy some poor fisher mans small wooden boat . Odd enough, the disease( that shall remain nameless, due to its over saturation in pop culture.) reached poor old Norman with a deep hard bite into the soft tissue of his shoulder.
But this is not a tale of horrible events that happened to finish Norman Phillips life, and/or the horrible events that happened his his undead life. No this is a tale of how Norman felt in his strained heart of hearts. How he beset to reach his dream, and the only thing that could stop him was the cold wet death bite of some other wretched infected soul.


See you tomorrow!!!